Temporary lore
Ok, lore for a new world, how and why the shit happened that happened. In a way that hopefully makes sense. here we go! The Echo, the materialised shadow of another world, a greater world, full of heroes, wars and magic. Sadly this is only the echo, the result of the original one beign blown to pieces by immense power.In the Great world, the leaders of the nations sought protection under the wings of Axan in the Hollows. There they lay in waiting, for the new world to come. This is the story of those who fled into the safety of their homes, instead of the Hollows.In the Great world, these people no longer exist, in the Echo however, these people find themselves to be alive. Alive is a strong term to use here, for when the separating of the Echo and the Great world happened, the souls of the living were separated from their body. Here is the funny thing. Magically separating the soul from the body does not cause the body left behind to die. It can `live` on, for it will not die of starvation, nor aging. `natural` causes of death like these dont have an effect on the bodys left behind. stabbing the heart or simply puncture a vein to make it bleed empty will cause death though, for the body is destroyed, and not fit to carry a soul anymore. During the separating of the body and soul, a lot of the Echo was still trembling, crushed by the power the gods released upon the Great world. This caused the ground to split, and buildings to collapse. events like those are very much capable of killing the now empty bodys, and so, many were crushed. These souls flew around the Echo aimlessly,past the great nations of old, the battlefields, their homes. Sometimes these souls gravitated towards their old bodies agian, but they never managed to become one with it, for the souls were not aware of surroundings, they did not feel, they did not see and they did not hear. The souls were nothing more than containers of memories, and pure energy, that drifted on the wind like spores. wheee break time. `what did the orcs do in the meantime?` Unlike the human(oid)s (elves, dwarves etc.) the orcs did not lose the connection between body and soul. The high Shamans predicted the coming of the end, and they were prepared. Sacrificial rituals strengthened them spiritually, a strenght that most humans had lost, since they only had faith in themselves. For decades did the orcs watch the clouds of souls pass by every other year, and for decades did they roam the lands freely, no longer prohibited, hunted even by the humans who vigourously sought to posses everything. The scattered clans clutched together, now that the flows of energy had changed, according to the high shamans. The clans had always build their settlements on places where the shamans felt the most energy, but now that there was rarely any, they moved. Not just one or two clans, all of them. The orc clans all left for the same destination: the midlands. It was there that there was still energy to be found, and there that the high shamans said they should move. Many clans started their exodus, leaving everything they had behind, with nothing but some simple supplies to keep them alive and to start a new settlement. It was a bright morning when the first clan arrived, after 3 weeks of a long trek trough the barren, cold mountains of the north, and the flatlands that the midlands mostly consisted off. It was a mere 3 days later that the second orc clan arrived, and in the course of that week, more and more of the clans came together. Even though the clans all consisted of orcs, neither of them felt like they had found their long lost brethren.Almost every day did these orcs battle eachother, not only the leaders, but even the weakest members of the tribes fought eachother for control of the last safe haven. No matter how many times the shamans pleaded the tribesmen to stop defiling this last piece of sacred land, they would not hesitate to smash another head in.This fierce stage of fighting lasted 3 weeks since the last of the clans arrived, until one of the Orcs, Durgul, rose upA massive roar filled the sky, louder than anyone had ever heard before, It was not a roar of pain, nor a roar of anger, but a roar of pride. Every orc stopped instantly, wether they were fighting, dragging body`s away or simply coocking stew. The orcs looked up, and on the hill they saw Durgul, breathing heavily, with the last of the tribal leaders broken at his feet. His axe was battered, and dripping with blood as he drew it from the neck of his foe.He held the weapon in his hand, while he spoke to the leftovers of the clans. With a loud voice he said: does any challenges me!? None of the orcs would dare to fight Durgul, an orc so fierce, whose body was scarred by so many battles, yet so strong, so vigilent. Durgul was the mightiest, anyone could see that. `Then I is the leader` he shouted, for no one dared to challenge him. Durgul commanded everyone to gather the supplies that were not yet trampled by the hordes, and start constructing tent and huts for his people. Durgul himself started building a hut for the shamans, for he had always trusted them, and always asked for their aid in hard times.The shamans thanked him, and took home in the still small hut he gave them, and prepared for the cleansing of the dead body`s, before they would burn them.Durgul watched, as the clans started working together, to build one, large stronghold, the home of the orcs. whee small break time The orcs continued living, growing in numbers, but the souls could not find a way to reunite with their body`s, nor could they depart, for there was nothing to depart to. Necropolis. The one place where this standstill could finally stop. Even though the masses of energy stored in the Core did not come to the Echo, there was still some power left, very deep inside, pulsing very softly. even though the clouds of souls had passed by Necropolis many times, never had one of the souls come anywhere close to the Core, as if a shield protected it from the mindless masses. However, something was different that night. The bright floating remains of a once aspirant mage entered the Cathedral, and drifted toward the core. It was the remains of magic that covered his soul that allowed him to bypass the `shield` that surrounded the core. As soon as the two touched, the little power that was inside awakened. The power that kept the undead alive for centuries now stirred the thousands of souls floating in the sky. Suddenly, the souls could feel their old bodies again. The body`s were no longer where they were before the disconnection. The Orcs feared the moveless, living dead, and were commanded to bring them to the fallen castle by the shamans. They felt that the bodies belonged to that source of mistique. One by one, the power of the core pushed the souls back into their body, and reforged the connection that body and soul had. (so, this is where the players come in. Its a bit cheesy. might change this, i guess i can think of something better in the near future, but for now, this will do) In Necropolis, however, the soul that reawakened the core wasnt moving. His body had died long ago. But like his, hundreds of other souls had no body to return to. The Core took all the remaining souls in, ready to keep them safe until an oppurtunity arrived. The Core, however, used all of its energy already to recreate a link between countless body`s and souls. to ensure that the souls would not decay, the Core drew energy from everything around it. not just magical energy, but also physical energy, the warmth of the tropical islands (hence the ice age in tidewater basin. (this is also still subject to change, not 100% sure about this yet, but this might as well be the birth of our antagonist.) -Note from Rvan: Keep in mind that this is temporary and open to changes. If you have any ideas about the lore, send them to the others so we can discus them.